


Sympathy for the Stranger

by thelarenttrap



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Frat Boy Harry, Halloween, M/M, This is trash, Twilight References, game of throne references, halloween trash, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 15:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12560516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelarenttrap/pseuds/thelarenttrap
Summary: Louis, by the unholy grace of god, ends up as Nick fucking Grimshaw's blind date for a fraternity Halloween party. There is only one thing to do in this situation: drink himself silly and dance the night away, even if he is dressed as Luigi. Thank goodness the stranger dressed as Jon Snow took pity on the stranger in the fraternity bathroom.





	Sympathy for the Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a pun on "Sympathy for the Devil" by The Rolling Stones because it was on the Halloween playlist I listened to while writing this. 
> 
> This is unbetaed and just a fun bit I thought of over Halloweekend, so it might be a mess but here it is. Happy Halloween!

_Fucking Perrie_ , Louis thinks as he wanders through the party towards the kitchen. She has wandered off, toting her empty box of Eggos and fake blood running from her nose, while her Mike Wheeler date follows like a puppy. It is exactly the same as every other first date he has witnessed of Perrie’s. Well, minus the Eggos.

So now Louis is running from _his_ date, a blind set up with a guy in this damn fraternity all because Perrie had wanted a date with Mike Wheeler (Louis can’t remember the guy’s actual name for the life of him) but doesn’t want to be alone at the guy’s fraternity Halloween party. Louis kind of hates college party culture.

 _“She blinded me with science!”_ the speakers screech. Oh god, Louis really needs one of those Jell-O shots he had spotted in the house’s kitchen. Thankfully, when he breaks through the crowd to the counter, a few of the tiny cups are left in the pyramid of technicolor shots. Louis downs two, then turns back to the party. His blind date isn’t in sight, thank god, and he relaxes for a moment. What had Perrie even been thinking setting him up with _Nick Grimshaw_ of all people? Granted, she didn’t know they had bio 101 together freshman year, and Louis had formed a hatred...but still. Even worse, Nick and him (before he knew this Nick was biology Nick) had coordinated their costumes over text and Louis is now wandering around as Luigi. He doesn’t think the green hat is helping him hide.

Thankfully, the next song is actually _good_ (because the frat briefly abandoned the over saturated Halloween theme). Louis squeezes through the throngs to the dance floor to jam along to _24K Magic_. He feels like it goes without being said that he would fuck Bruno Mars if given the chance.

Someone is passing around a bottle of Svedka and Louis gets his hands on it long enough to take a pull. Without a chaser his taste buds burn, but the fruity flavor overtakes the vodka taste just enough to be bearable. He shakes his head violently, like that will help, and straightens out enough to go hard to the lyric “Spend your money like your money ain’t shit”.

“Lou, what happened to your date?!” Perrie is forced to scream over the music when she spots him.

“Fuck Nick,” Louis shouts. A few frat boy heads turn.

“Yeah, that was the point.”

“No,” Louis tries, “no, like he’s the _worst_.”

“You just met him!”

They are both dancing as they carry on the conversation seeing as they are in the middle of the dance floor. It is difficult for Louis to focus his eyes on Perrie as they both move. Louis is also possibly more drunk than he realizes, which he thinks rationalizes his next sentence.

“Nick can go to hell.” And with that, Louis pushes past Perrie, past whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is, and back to get more alcohol.

 _All Night Longer_ finds Louis on the dance floor again, shouting “Tell that bartender make that motherfucker stronger” and dancing like perhaps he _does_ do this every night. That’s a damn lie, but a boy can dream.

“Dude, you doing okay?” a random frat guy asks, hand on Louis’s shoulder.

“Yuh, why chou ask?” Louis shoots back. The guy is taller than Louis, and has dark curls. There is fur on his shoulders, some sort of cloak, and Louis can’t tell if he grew his facial hair or if it’s drawn on. “Hay, are chou Juhn Snoo?”

The guy smiles and chuckles. “Yeah!”

“Thas sick,” Louis tells him. And then he worries he’s going to be sick. “Bye” he hurriedly tells Jon Snow before running off the dance floor as fast as his drunk legs can take him.

* * *

Harry knew this party would be crazy, but this is the most college party he has ever been to. Maybe this is why he didn’t come to the Alpha Chi parties as much as other members…

He watches a girl get a boost onto the bar from Liam. She’s dressed like one of the _Mean Girls_ , Amanda Seyfried's character but he can’t remember her name. It’s been years since he’s seen the movie. Below her, Liam watches her dance. He is dressed as Thor, just a fake leather breast plate and cape to leave little about his muscles up to the imagination. Suddenly, Harry realizes that is _not_ the girl he came with. Leave it to Liam to already have ditched his date for the next hottest girl he can find.

The scene at the bar is practically a strip show, with a line of six girls dancing on the wooden top. Harry wanders towards the kitchen. Barreling out is a spunky kid dressed as the green guy from Mario Kart...Loogie? He nearly knocks Harry’s drink out of his hand as he barges past, apparently _just_ noticing that _24k Magic_ is playing.

Harry could swear he hears him murmur “I’d fuck Bruno Mars” and it’s the gayest thing Harry has heard all night. Good.  

As usual, he finds Niall at the kitchen table defending his beer pong champion title.

“You see this?” Niall is asking, his Irish accent heavier than ever. It always surprises people when he is Irish, like an exchange kid from Ireland would somehow 1) not rush a frat and 2) not fit in like he was born for it. “That’s me name,” Niall lectures the pledge challenging him to a game. He’s pointing to his winning streak on the chalkboard titled _Beer Pong Brothers_. “And that’s over fifty tally marks beside my name. Can’t you count by fives?”

“Lay off, Niall,” Harry calls.

“Yeah, put your money where your mouth is,” the pledge taunts. Harry tries really hard not to facepalm. The kid doesn’t know what he is in for.

The game is lethal as Niall and Josh hit a cup at least every other turn. They are playing full rules as well, so the game involves some diving across the table to snatch rebounds away from the opponent. When they finish decimating the other team, Josh and Niall high five and then head to the kitchen for more beers.

Harry plays them next game, Liam at his side (somehow having left the girls who are still on the bar in the other room). Harry is ready to be defeated, so Niall’s victory doesn’t hurt as much as it did the pledge.

When the _Ghostbusters_ theme song starts, everyone floods to the dance floor. Harry’s not really sure how one dances to this, but jumping and flailing his limbs about seems good as anything.

“He’s giving you a run for your money,” Liam laughs, pointing to someone nearby in the crowd. And there’s Loogie, obviously a great number of drinks further in than before and seemingly having the time of his life dancing to Ray Parker, Jr.

Despite the half hearted costume Harry can’t remember the name of, there is something alluring about the other boy. And that’s why two songs later, when Harry is still dancing and Louis almost falls several times in a row, Harry approaches him, puts a hand on his shoulder, and asks if he is okay.

* * *

Louis pushes open the stall door and barely makes it before his guts come up. Fuck, this sucks. He knows he should have seen it coming considering how fast he was drinking but he doesn’t want to _be_ here, and his ride home (since Perrie is in Alpha Gamma Sigma and has sober sisters she can call) is busy trying to bang Mike Wheeler. Oh wow, bad wording. Mike is a minor in _Stranger Things_. Louis throws up again.

He hates himself as he rests his forehead on the toilet seat. The porcelain feels cold to the touch and good on his now clammy face, despite whatever horrendous germs he is undoubtedly accumulating. God, it’s been so long since he’s thrown up at a party and it _sucks_.

Another round of heaving and he’s leaning against the door to the stall, breathing through his nose and knowing his stomach is still churning. He probably shouldn’t have accepted the cup of punch some drunk ass had offered him. Shit was probably jungle juice and probably had a whole handle of EverClear in the bowl. Come to think of it, that’s probably why he was throwing up orange (the jungle juice had been festively colored).

When the next round comes up, it’s not as bad. Louis thinks it’s the last and relaxes back against the door. He’ll just rest for a minute and then head back into the party…

* * *

Harry loses sight of Loogie as he runs through the crowd. What had Loogie been apologizing for?

He wanders off the dance floor and back into the other room, where a group of his brothers have now gotten on the bar. Niall’s Guy Fieri costume is nearly unrecognizable at this point; he lost the glasses somewhere in the party and has unbuttoned the flame shirt to his belly button to relieve some of the heat from dancing. Harry shakes his head and moves close enough to the bar to act as a spotter for Niall if needed.

Josh suddenly appears beside Harry. “You know, this was for him… but I think he’s good,” Josh says, handing the beer to Harry instead. Josh has another in his other fist.

“I can’t believe Niall brings Guinness to parties when any low life could steal it,” Harry says, then takes his first sip.

“I know, it’s just plain stupid,” Josh says as he takes a sip from the second Guinness.

Sadly, Harry downs the beer too fast and has to break the seal during _Thriller_  of all songs. He can’t believe he is missing Michael Jackson to pee.

As he opens the bathroom door, there is the distinctive sound of someone throwing up their guts.  

* * *

Louis slowly rolls awake, then bolts awake. How did he end up in his bed?

The first thing he does is pat the other side of the bed, then turn to examine it. Empty. Thank god.

Then Louis’s headache kicks in. And it’s _horrible_.

“You awake?” Zayn calls from outside the door.

“Could you hear my groan?”

“Maybe.” Zayn pushes into Louis’s room with a bottle of ibuprofen in his left hand and a water bottle in the other.

“You’re the best roommate ever,” Louis tells him.

“And don’t you forget it.”

Twenty minutes later, once Louis has a cup of tea in his hands and is slouched on the sofa watching Zayn cook breakfast, he asks his burning question.

“So.... how did I get home last night?”

“Ain’t that a tale. I don’t think I know the half of it.” Louis waits. “I got a call from Perrie letting me know I needed to get up and unlock the door for you.  Thanks for that by the way.”

Louis cringes. Zayn and Perrie still weren’t talking after their break up, whoops.

““Don’t know what happened at the party though. And I’m not sure who the guy was that got you here though,” Zayn continues. “He wasn’t dressed as Mario and wasn’t your date Mario?”

“Oh my god,” Louis says.

“What?” Zayn asks, looking away from the stove where he is frying an egg to make sure Louis is okay.

“I didn’t wake up in my costume. Does that mean…?”

“You were in it when you got home, and that guy was only here a minute I’d say. There’s no way.”

Louis feels relieved but still slightly suspicious. “I’m going to text Perrie.”

Perrie ends up calling Louis and telling him everything she remembers which is remarkably more than Louis would have suspected based on Perrie’s blackout rap sheet. For once, it seems he did worse in the blackout department.

Louis then explains the story to Zayn. “Okay, so apparently she was looking for me because she was leaving. So she was texting my phone but I wasn’t answering. And the guy who brought me home ended up calling her on my phone, but she was already in the sober car by then. So she gave him our address and then called you for the door.”

“So she just gave our address to a perfect stranger who apparently had found you in the corner at the party blackout?”

“If my memory is giving me context clues, it was a bathroom stall,” Louis says. “And she was very drunk too, probably didn’t think about that one.” Louis takes his mug to the sink to wash it, his tea finished. As he rolls up his sleeves, he sees black on his arm.

“ZAYN.”

“Dude, you’re going to give me a heart attack someday.”

“There’s a phone number on my arm.”

* * *

Loogie’s phone has gone off ten times in the last three minutes, all texts from someone entered as “Edwarda Cullen” in Loogie’s contacts, which he assumes is a joke. Or at least hopes.

Harry holds down the home button on the iPhone to bypass Loogie’s passcode. “Call Edwarda Cullen.”

“Pear!” Loogie crows. He is barely keeping his eyes open and Harry needs to get this kid _home_.

“Louis, where the fuck are you?” Harry is sure he heard this girl wrong. What a fucking coincidence this kid’s name is nearly Loogie when Harry’s been calling him that all night.

“He’s on the bathroom floor, I found him. Are you at this party?”

“Oh shoot, I just left. I couldn’t find him! Here, I’ll ask the sober driver to turn around.”

Edwarda doesn’t sound even _close_ to sober though, and Harry doesn’t know how she plans to get a grown ass man home. “No, you’re fine. Just tell me where to take him. I’m not very drunk.” It’s the truth.

“Lemme pull up his address, it’s the brick apartments along Sheridan… Ah yeah it’s 1271 Sheridan, number 209.”

“Louis, you got a key?” Harry asks the boy on the floor beside him. He can’t believe he is sitting on the bathroom floor doing this. At least Louis hasn’t thrown up since Harry got in the bathroom, just the one as he was opening the door.

“No,” Perrie says on the phone. “He usually wakes up his roommate to get in.”

“So this dude is gonna wake up to a stranger banging on his door?”

Perrie is silent for a moment. “I’ll call him.” It sounds like the last thing she wants to do.

“Thank you,” Harry tells her before hanging up. Now for the fun part.

Getting Louis off the floor is a little difficult, but Harry isn’t a weakling by any means. Once Louis is on his feet, he stays there decently well. Harry has an arm around his torso and they make it all the way to the front door of the house this way, where a brother holds it open for them to struggle through. Sheridan is only a block down, and considering Harry has drank some, he figures it won’t be bad to just walk, right?

Wrong. Louis is a snarky, sassy motherfucker. He had been silent in the bathroom but the night air must have woken him up or something.

“Why are you furry,” he moans as they walk. Harry can see the apartments, but they are barely getting any closer. “Are you a bear?”

“Is that a gay pun?”

“If the shoe fits,” Louis says.

“I’m more of a boot person,” Harry tells him. Louis shoves his face into the fake fur over Harry’s shoulders.

“It cold.”

“This is why you don’t come to a party in a costume actually from a Halloween store, you gotta invest,” Harry tells him. Louis’s costume is very obviously a last minute purchase from the cheap place that cropped up in the strip mall beside Wal-Mart in September.

“Your costume is better than mine. I’ve always wanted to bang Snow.”

“I’m more of a Oberyn Martell kind of guy,” Harry says, trying to ignore the little flip his stomach just did.

“Polygamy?” Louis asks, but it sounds like “poo-lig-ah-me.”

“If I could have him to myself,” Harry corrects.

They are finally in front of the apartment building and Harry opens the door to help Louis through. His legs are still a little bit like wet noodles, and navigating through a door without help is difficult. Harry sighs in relief when he sees there is an elevator and punches the button to call it. Harry loosens his grip on Louis and he slumps to the floor beside the door. Somewhere above them, the elevator begins humming as it descends for them.  

“You’re a cute John Snow,” Louis says in the silence.

“I’d say the same about your costume but I don’t know his name,” Harry says.

“I don’t either at this point.”

Harry barks out a laugh as the elevator doors open.

“What was that?!”

“My laugh you asshole,” Harry says as he pulls Louis off the floor and they shuffle into the elevator.

The doors try to close as they pass, and Louis makes a reproachful noise. Oh god it is endearing.

On the second floor, Louis’s apartment is unlocked, as promised. Harry knocks once lightly to forewarn the roommate and then turns the handle.

The door opens straight into a kitchen/living room combo. On the sofa is a dark haired, adonis of a boy. And he is dead asleep. Harry freezes, and Louis’s roommate stirs.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles. “Imajust so tired.”

“Where’s his room? I’ll just get him to his room and be out of your hair,” Harry says.

“On the right,” Zayn mumbles. Louis repeats it too from beside Harry. Harry doesn’t think either of their eyes are open. It _is_ nearly three a.m. so Harry can’t blame the roommate for his exhaustion.

Harry helps Louis through one last doorway and Louis flops onto his bed. Harry debates how much he should help Louis now. Is it too much to just help him take off his shoes? No one wants shoes in their bed though… he decides to at least help Louis get his shoes off.

Harry bends and unties them swiftly, yanking one off and then the other. Louis is saying something, but it is quiet and slurred so Harry isn’t really listening. Then louder, Louis repeats himself.

“Did I tell you you’re a cute John Snow yet? Or just think it?” Harry smiles.

“You trying to hit on me?”

“Well, you’re a cute John Snow.”

Harry turns and sets Louis’s shoes beside his desk. On top, there is a pen. “Here, give me your arm.”

Louis obliges and Harry begins a message.

* * *

“Do I call it?” Louis asks.

“Definitely. Who did you talk to at the party?”

“I don’t know man. I blacked out, remember?”

“Just dial,” Zayn says.

Louis enters the phone number and waits. The phone rings so many times, Louis is convinced he is going get a voicemail. Zayn’s excitement beside him is deflating.

Then, “Hello?” The voice is _ridiculously_ raspy.

“Sorry...did I wake you?”

“Who is this?”

“Louis...um… your phone number is kinda written on my arm?”

There is silence on the other end. Louis swears if this is a prank, he will kill the culprit for making a fool out of him.

“Hey Louis.” His heart skips a beat at his name said in that raspy voice.

“Mind if I ask who this is?”

“Any recollection of the dude dressed as Jon Snow? Don’t think I ever actually introduced myself.”

“From the dance floor? You asked if I was good, right?”

“Um… and I was the one who brought you home.”

“Jon Snow braved the Halloweekend cold to get me home?”

“For some goddamn reason.” Louis doesn’t know this kid but he can still hear the smile in his voice.

There is silence for a moment. Louis wants to ask how he got out of his costume.

Harry clears his throat. “Do you remember...cute Jon Snow?”

“That sounds like… a quote.”

“It definitely is. Verbatim and everything.”

“Seeing as I have no recollection, I’ll have to take you word on this one. How would cute Jon Snow feel about getting dinner sometime? On me of course to repay your valiant deed.”

“I’d like that, I think I’d really like that.”

Zayn mouths “Wow” at Louis and shakes his head.

“I have one more question for you,” Louis says.

“What’s that?”

“How did I get out of my costume last night?”

“Um, you went to sleep in it,” Harry says.

Louis goes back to his room. On the floor, on the far side of his bed his costume lays rumpled in a heap with the Luigi hat sat perfectly on top.

“Are you telling me I drunk changed into pajamas?”

“You seem to be a talented man.”  


**Author's Note:**

> Always feel free to leave a comment, feedback is everything!


End file.
